


ritual

by FauxFidele



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: A little fluffy, Crack, Flirtatious Will, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Sugar Dick Challenge, Will is a shit, domestic hannigram
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-11 01:18:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7019428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FauxFidele/pseuds/FauxFidele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Will makes a quick run to the market, Hannibal texts him a request with an egregious spelling error.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ritual

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my #SugarDick

Every once in a while, Will enjoyed going to the market by himself.

He almost always went with Hannibal, but about once a week or so, Will would sneak out when he wasn’t looking and make a solo run, usually just so he could actually grab a soda, or one of those delicious fried pastries that Hannibal always fussed at him about. 

Sometimes he just wanted to enjoy a deep-fried pastry without someone lecturing him about the cholesterol and the calorie count, especially a man with _his_ type of peculiarities in regards to their eating habits.

So Will checked to make sure Hannibal was already mid-shower before he stuffed his wallet into his jeans and scurried out their front door, walking briskly down the block toward the market. He’d been walking for about 3 minutes when his phone rang.

“Yes?” he said, drawing out the “Y” sound to embellish the flippancy in his voice. He grinned however, amused at Hannibal’s persistence.

“Will, why must you be so insufferably pig-headed?” Hannibal snipped from the other end of the line.

“Hmm, not sure what you mean, but I think you’re breaking up …” Will said, rumpling the bottom of his shirt over the butt of his mobile, muffling the microphone.

He had a mischievous smirk as he ended the call and shoved the phone in his jeans, picking up his pace, lest Hannibal try to catch up with him.

As Will rounded the corner, the storefront came into view and he darted through the sliding doors, for some reason feeling more out of reach from Hannibal under cover of the building. He took out his phone and opened it to text Hannibal, but there was already a message waiting for him.

Hannibal (2:44pm): incredibly rude, Will

He choked back a rather high-pitched laugh, clearing his throat to recover, and looked around suspiciously to see if anyone heard him. Satisfied that he hadn’t embarrassed himself, he texted Hannibal back.

(2:49pm): i’ll brb, grabbing a few things

Sent. He went to the bakery and ordered his little dough ball of warm, sweet deliciousness, choosing to enjoy it sitting at one of the small tables nearby. He sipped on a coke, and realized this had almost become a ritual of sorts. It felt nice to have something that was just his.

His phone buzzed on the table.

Hannibal (2:58pm): are you enjoying your dessert, Will?

Will rolled his eyes out of habit, but it didn’t really bother him, the way the older gentleman kept tabs on him. He’d never admit that, but it also felt nice to know that he was Hannibal’s ritual of sorts. Will was someone that was his, and his alone. A trace of a smile lingered on his lips as he sat, thinking.

He finally responded to Hannibal’s text.

(3:03pm): it’s a little lonely (deleted)  
  
(3:03pm): maybe you could make it better (no, fuck no, erase, God, so creepy, Will)  
  
(3:04pm): mm hmm, need anything?

Sent.

There. He finished his pastry, and took a sip of his drink when the next message arrived.

Hannibal (3:06pm): sugar dicks please

The drink exploded from Will’s mouth before he could catch himself, spitting it over his empty plate, spraying everywhere, all over the table. As expected, everyone in his vicinity was staring at him with wide, terrifyingly judgmental eyes. Will sat frozen in his embarrassment, until one of the cashiers brought him a pile of napkins. He nodded with a “grazie mille” and cleaned up his soda disaster.

It didn’t take long for everyone to ignore him once again. He looked at his phone once again, buzzing in his hand.

Hannibal (3:06pm): sugar cubes, rather

Hannibal (3:08pm): damn phone changed it 

Will bit down on his lip, scrunching his nose, to try and keep from breaking out into laughter. Just one slip and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop the barrage of giggling that would surely follow, so he contorted his face, looking quite pained, to hold it in.

Hannibal (3:10pm): are you plotting? If so could you still bring the sugar cubes?

Somehow Will managed to suppress the fit of laughter for the time being and gathered himself, wiping down his table, and stopping one last time to reply to Hannibal.

(3:11pm): coming right up (delete, ugh)

(3:11pm): be right there

Sent. 

Will was in a desperate hurry to leave, torn between embarrassment over spitting his drink everywhere and barely resisting the urge to laugh at Hannibal’s accidentally lascivious text, but he still made sure to pick up a small container of sugar cubes before heading back home.

When he arrived at the front door to their flat, he knocked. Once, twice.

A light flickered over the peephole and Will knew Hannibal was looking out, and would obviously recognize him, though he would be curious as to why he didn’t walk in on his own. Sure enough, he made Will linger outside for a few moments before opening the door.

Hannibal lazily, with absolutely no haste, pulled the front door open, dressed in a white button down shirt and gray slacks. He eyed Will suspiciously.

“Yes?” Hannibal said, emulating the same, snarky tone that Will had used earlier on the phone cutting him off.

Will’s hands were empty and he cocked his head to the side, returning Hannibal’s gaze playfully. One of his fingers hooked into his pocket, giving him a devil-may-care type of posture. He raised a single eyebrow to Hannibal, grinning madly, and it was quite obvious that it took all of the older man’s self control to repress the smile building beneath his lips.

“Special delivery,” Will purred out, lips a bit twitchy as he strained to not laugh.

Hannibal stepped aside, and Will walked in, the two men never taking their eyes off one another, and he sank back into the couch, legs spread, facing him. Will lifted his shirttails, revealing the fly of his snugly fit blue jeans, and Hannibal took it all in, expression a little skeptical, highly amused, but also wildly confused. 

Will slowly, lewdly, unbuttoned his pants, and then unzipped his fly. Hannibal’s jaw dropped when he saw Will unveil the box of sugar cubes that protruded from the front of his pants.

“One order of _sugar dicks_ , delivered straight to your door,” Will said, sultry and flirtatious, before finally setting into a deep laughter that he’d been holding in for what felt like forever. The deep laughter soon digressed into the high-pitched, breathy giggles and his lips spread across his face so wide it looked almost painful. 

Hannibal just shook his head, trying to fake irritation, but the second wave of Will’s giggles got the best of him and he became taken with laughter as well, stepping closer to snatch the damned box of sugar cubes from his pants. 

“Juvenile,” Hannibal huffed out, rolling his eyes, but still laughing pleasantly under his breath.

Will grinned and reached out for Hannibal, grabbing him by the arm. “Get over here and taste some of _this_ sugar dick,” he said, laughing and tugging him down to couch, pulling him into his lap. 

A long sigh escaped the older gentleman as he relented with a pleased grin, sliding down to his knees to indulge in his own sinful, little ritual.


End file.
